


Impossible

by mitsuki_yuriko



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, Super Junior
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Light Angst, Mild Blood, Psychological Trauma, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2019-11-07 11:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsuki_yuriko/pseuds/mitsuki_yuriko
Summary: It was never meant to turn out this way.“It’s all your fault! It’s your fault she died, and now I’ll make you pay!”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus, I'm finally back after a stressful exam period.  
> Hope you enjoy!

 

It was never meant to turn out this way.

 

“It’s all your fault! It’s your fault she died, and now I’ll make you pay!”

 

How could something turn so wrong, so quickly?

 

“Stop! Please, I’ll do anything, I beg you just don’t hurt him _please_.”

 

One moment everything was fine, and the next minute, there was blood dripping, staining the floor crimson.

 

“CHANGMIN!”

 

How did it end up like this?

 

…

 

They had been celebrating TVXQ’S 15th anniversary. Despite Changmin’s insistence to keep it a quiet affair, the friends of the much-loved duo went all-out to celebrate this milestone in their legendary career.

The older SM groups, Super Junior and SHINee and SNSD were all there, over twenty people crammed into their house. There was laughing and shouting and play-fighting, drinking games and dancing and random outbursts of songs.

Changmin spied Taemin, Eunhyuk, Hyoyeon and a few others amongst the mingling bodies in the living room, having their very own freestyle dance-off to the beat of music in their impromptu disco. Off in the dining room, he could hear the loud exclamations and laughs of glee that only indicated a very wild version of an explosive card game was being played.

No guesses to who was winning there, he thought  bemusedly, as sounds of Sunny’s delighted cackles and Minho’s groans of despair drifted out of the room.

And of course, the lead vocalists were engaging in their very own karaoke acapella, belting out perfect notes that made angels cry in jealousy, voices harmonising to sweet perfection.

The rest of their friends were huddled in little circles, chatting and gossiping away, but having no less fun than their more extroverted counterparts.

Changmin sat on the couch alone, sipping at his glass of wine. His eyes wandered around the room, searching through the masses of people, until it identified and zeroed in on his hyung.

Yunho was having a great time, mingling and chatting away like the social butterfly he is.

As much as the elder man loved to perform, the expectations and pressure from being legendary icons in the industry was real. When the cameras were put away and staff retired for the night, it always pained Changmin to see the elder's professional mask drop, revealing the fatigue and aches and pains of long hours working non-stop.

Changmin was glad to see that in the company of their closest friends, the stress lines on the leader’s face faded away, his shoulders were a little lighter, his laughter brighter and smiles more genuine. Here, Yunho didn’t have to worry about the press or maintaining their image or other work-related stresses, he could put aside U-Know Yunho and focus on being just Jung Yunho, a young man loved and adored by his friends and family.

Happiness was a good look on him, Changmin thought.

 

But as much as Changmin loved the liveliness and energy his friends brought, he was an introvert at heart. After mingling with a few people and a much-needed catchup with the Kyuline, he was ready for some time alone.

So when hollers for more alcohol began to increase, he volunteered to duck to the convenience store two streets down to buy more without a second thought.

 

It was a stupid decision, to walk alone at night.

He knew that.

He knew that, and yet, had thought that no one would recognise him at this late hour of night, much less cause him any trouble.

Boy, was he wrong.

 

One minute he was on the way home, swinging a bag filled with bottles of wine and champagne, assuring Yunho on the phone that yes, he was fine, and yes, he was almost home.

The next minute there was a burning, searing pain on the back of his head and his vision exploded with stars.

Dimly, he could hear the shattering of glass as he dropped his hold on his bag, and clattering as his phone skidded across the pavement.

Faintly, he could hear Yunho’s distressed voice coming from his phone. But he couldn’t move as the ground rose up to meet him and his vision went black.

 

…

 

Yunho _knew_ it had been a bad idea to let the younger go out by himself this late at night. But Changmin had given Yunho his bambi eyes, desperate to go and have some quiet time away from their boisterous friends, and Yunho had reluctantly agreed.

He sorely regretted that decision now.

Yunho was halfway through a sentence when he heard a sharp crack followed by a sound that was, unmistakably, Changmin’s cry of pain.

“Changmin? Changmin!”

There was a sound of glass shattering, and a dull thud that, Yunho realised with horror, sounded suspiciously like the sound of a body hitting the floor.

“What’s wrong? Answer me, Changmin!”

The other end of the phone was silent.

He rushed to the window, peering out through the glass to see if he could see anything, but it was a pitch-black night, no streetlights nor moon to light the path.

“Changmin, please answer me,” he pleaded into the empty line.

By now, the party-goers had realised something was wrong. The music was shut off, lights turned back on.

They huddled around Yunho in an uneasy circle with bated breath, murmurs of confusion filling the room.

 

There was a light shuffling noise as Changmin’s phone was picked up.

The person that responded, however, was not the maknae.

 

“Bring me Jung Yunho,” said a scratchy, hoarse voice. “Or little Changmin here will pay the price.”

And the line cut off.

 

 

…

 

 

Yunho stood, frozen, clutching his phone, the man’s final words lingering in his ear.

_Bring me Jung Yunho, or little Changmin here will pay the price._

What?

 

Leeteuk, bless his soul, had taken one look at his face and realised something was terribly, dreadfully wrong.

He gently ushered the younger members out of the living room, hushing their worries and reassuring them that everything was okay. Donghae starting tearing up out of worry, and Eunhyuk quickly wrapped a comforting arm around the elder, murmuring reassurances in his ear. They were joined by SHINee, who stood in a concerned little huddle, trying to keep Minho, who was closest to Changmin, from panicking. They were joined by the SNSD girls, each with varying degrees of worry and thinly-veiled panic.

Leeteuk rounded them up in a matter of minutes, and started contacting their managers and family members to collect them.

Vaguely, Yunho felt very grateful for Leeteuk’s quick thinking. He wasn’t in the right state of mind to do anything, much less be a leader, right now.

 

“Yunho? Yunho.”

He felt someone grab his shoulder and shake him, but it felt distant, muted, like he was underwater. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

“Yunho, what’s wrong?”

Someone had taken Changmin.

“Yunho-hyung, please answer us.”

Changmin was in danger.

“Move aside, kid, that won’t do anything.”

It was all his fault.

 

Sharp, hot pain exploded across his cheek and whipped his head to the side from the sheer force of the blow, almost stumbling onto the sofa.

Automatically, he raised a hand to his burning cheek, finally snapping out of his self-inflicted daze.

Kangin was standing in front of him, hand extended, having just slapped the younger across the face.

 

“Oh, you’re finally back with us,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

Yunho blinked.

Heechul and Kyuhyun were standing around him in a concerned circle, worry evident in their eyes.

“What’s wrong with Changmin, hyung,” Kyuhyun asked, brow furrowed in worry.

“Ch-Changmin, he,” Yunho croaked out, throat feeling dry.

 

“He's been kidnapped.”

 

 

…

 

 

“No,” Kyuhyun breathes, voice soft with horror. His mind instantly goes to the sasaeng fans, who would do anything, break any law and pay any price, in order to see their idols. TVXQ had an army of fans, but their insane fans were also ample in number and he shudders at the thought of Changmin, powerless and at their mercy. He didn't know he started shaking until Heechul quickly wrapped an arm around him comfortingly, tucking him into his shoulder.

“Why?” Heechul demanded quietly, simmering anger evident in his dark tone. He still remembered Yunho's poisoning scare as if it were yesterday, and the panic and fear and anxiety that lasted for months afterwards.

Yunho shook his head. “I don’t know, but they said they would hurt him, unless….”

He trailed off, unable to complete his sentence.

"Unless what, hyung," Kyuhyun urged, eyes wide with panic.

Yunho shook his head, trying to force the words out, but his tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth.

"Unless I..."

There was a sharp intake of breath.

“Unless you go instead,” Kyuhyun finished softly, horror in his voice.

 

“Absolutely not.”

Leeteuk walked back into the room, Kangin at his heels. The normally smiley man wearing his serious, no-nonsense face and Yunho automatically straightened up slightly.

“We are not letting you go in alone all hero-mode in attempt to save Changmin, Yunho.”

“But he’ll hurt Changmin,” Yunho said desperately. “I _have_ to go.”

“Where would you go?” the elder asked, not unkindly. “Do you even know where he is?”

Yunho clutched his phone hard, almost cracking the screen in his anger.

Changmin was kidnapped, stolen, and hurt. He would wake up lost, in pain and afraid, and Yunho didn't even know how where he was to save him.

Helplessly, he shook his head.

Leeteuk gave him a sympathetic look. 

“Exactly. And furthermore, there is no guarantee that Changmin will be unharmed, even _if_ you go,” he pointed out. “For now, stay calm, and let’s wait and see what exactly he wants.”

 

Just as he finished speaking, Yunho’s phone buzzed to indicate a notification.

With shaky fingers, he opened the text message.

It was an image, a location circled on a map, followed by a single line.

_Come alone._

 

 

…

 

 

An abandoned warehouse near the edge of the city.

Where rust collected on the metal boards and the pavement was cracked and overrun with weeds. Where the barbed wire fence was torn, surfaces defaced with graffiti.

That’s where the crazy stranger told Yunho to meet him.

He enters the building alone.

 

It was a scene right out of his worst dreams, a nightmare brought to life.

 

In the middle of the dusty room stood a chair upon which Changmin sat, head lolled to the side, unconscious. Standing just behind him was the crazed man, holding a knife that pointed to Changmin’s throat.

“Well, well, look who decided to show up,” the maniacal kidnapper ground out in a hoarse voice. He was tall, around Yunho’s height, and dressed head to toe in black garbs. His hair was wild and untamed, his skin unhealthily pale with an ungroomed beard growing on his chin.

But his eyes were the most frightening feature.

They were wild and bloodshot and crazed, and there was no doubt in Yunho’s mind that he would kill the Changmin given the slightest provocation.

 

Yunho took a deep breath and tried to speak in a firm voice.

“I’m here now, please let Changmin go as you promised.”

But the man only smiled. A wide, disturbing smile.

“Ah,” the man said thoughtfully. “But I never said that I would let him go, did I?”

He grasped Changmin’s hair and roughly jerked his head back, exposing his throat.

Yunho’s heart leapt into his throat when he saw the blood matting the younger’s hair, the developing bruise on his temple and dried blood that was streaked down his face

“You bastard-!”

He took a step forward, seething with rage, but halted abruptly when the man pushed his blade closer to Changmin’s neck, drawing a drop of blood as the knife nicked the skin.

“Be careful what you say, dear Yunho,” the man’s grin grew even further, even more crazed. “If you upset me, my hand might…slip.”

Yunho watched in growing trepidation as the man traced his blade along the column of Changmin’s throat, circling around his adams apple.

“We don’t want little Changmin here to be caught up in a little accident, do we?”

Yunho gritted his teeth, fists shaking.

“DO WE?” He pressed the blade harder against Changmin’s pale neck, and Yunho watched in absolute terror as it sliced through the tissue, sending rivets of blood running down his neck, pooling at his collar and staining the white shirt red.

 

“ _Stop_!”

 

With a start, Yunho realised that the terrified plea was his own.

 

The man paused, raising a thin eyebrow, his hand still on the blade pressing into Changmin's throat. He turned his head away from Changmin and his eyes tore into Yunho's own. Still holding his gaze, cocked his head to the side, as if asking, _is that all?_

Yunho watched the blood dripping down Changmin's neck, his heart in his throat.

“Please, I’ll do anything, I beg you just don’t hurt him _please_ ,” Yunho begged.

The man smiled, seemingly satisfied at the unveiled panic in Yunho’s voice, and removed his blade from Changmin's throat. Yunho felt his stomach curl at the sight of blood on the knife.

_Changmin’s blood._

“Well, Yunho, I’m glad you agree with me. No need to get so worked up, now,” he smiled broadly, showing crooked teeth.

Yunho clenched his fists helplessly, watching the red ooze sluggishly down Changmin’s throat.

Thankfully, it seemed like the cut missed any vital arteries. He didn’t want to find out what would happen the next time he angered the other.

Yunho dragged his eyes away from Changmin and turned to the psychotic man.

“Please, what is it that you want from me,” he demanded quietly. “We’ve never met you, much less ever done anything to you. Why are you doing this?”

 

The man’s smile froze, his hand milimeters from Changmin’s neck.

“Never done anything to me? Never _done_ anything to me? You ruined everything, Jung Yunho!”

His grip on the knife tightened, and for one terrifying moment Yunho thought the man would lose control and accidentally draw it across Changmin’s neck.

“It’s all your fault! It’s your fault she died, and now I’ll make you pay!”

“Who died?” Yunho asked cautiously.

“My wife,” the man whispered. “My precious, precious wife…”

“She loved you, U-known Yunho. Supported you through all the ridiculous ups and downs and splitting of your group. I could never understand why, but she loved you.

“So it’s entirely your fault that she died. If only you didn’t exist, then she would have been paying attention to the road, and wouldn’t have been hit by the car that took her life. Took the life of my beautiful, beautiful wife,” he whispered, anguish colouring his voice.

He lowered his head slightly, bowed in silent memory, his arm dropping to his side.

 

Yunho couldn’t help the spark of pity he felt for the man. What he had done was absolutely criminal, and Yunho would never forgive him for harming Changmin and dragging them all into this mess.

But he could see that the man genuinely loved his wife, and was driven mad by her death. In his all-consuming grief he must’ve felt lost and hopeless, and he directed all his anger and frustrations to Yunho as a means of coping.

Yunho knew what it felt like, to have someone so dear and loved leave him without a word, to try and drown his sorrows in alcohol but wake up with their name on the tip of his tongue, expecting to see them there.

Then realising they were gone, and feel the heartbreak all over again.

 

_Jaejoong._

 

“I’m sorry…” Yunho murmured.  

The man’s head jerked up, eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not. You’re just saying that so I won’t hurt your precious Changmin here,” he spat. “You idols and your pampered, comfortable lives, how can you know what it’s like to live as a commoner? To have everything you know and love taken away from you?”

He tightened his grip on Changmin’s hair, tugging his head back.

And evoked a low, pain-filled groan.

 

Both he and the madman froze, as the singer sitting in the chair stirred slightly.

 

“Ch-Changmin?” Yunho whispered.

Changmin moaned again, and slowly opened his eyes, bleary and unfocused.

 

“Hyung…”

 

…

 

 

The first thing Changmin becomes aware of is pain.

There is a sharp ache in the back of his head, and a dull throbbing pain like his brain had just been knocked around in his skull. His ears were ringing, and it was so hard to _focus_ on anything so he just lets his mind drift.

His throat hurt, too, a stinging sensation that spoke of superficial wounds. He tried to swallow and winced when it brought a sharp sting of pain.

What had happened?

He tried to consolidate his thoughts but they were slippery, falling through his fingers as he grasped for threads of memory.

There was a brief tingling in his knees and palm of his hands. He curls his fingers into a loose fist instinctively, and finds the area grazed, open and raw.

Did he fall recently?

 

The next thing he is acutely aware of is the staleness of the air. He hates enclosed spaces, and always leaves his windows open for sunlight and fresh air to filter through. Even in his practise rooms and recording studios, he makes sure there are always air fresheners or scent diffusers. His house is never this stifling.

Which leads him to conclude.

He isn’t at home.

So where was he?

Slowly his other senses return to him and he is acutely aware of his awkward posture, seated in a chair, head tilted back. There are fingers in his hair, but not gentle, not like Yunho’s.

They are tight and rough, tugging harshly at his scalp.

The loud ringing in his ears finally dies down, and he can hear someone speaking.

It’s an unfamiliar voice. A scratchy, hoarse voice that was speaking in his ear, gyrating on his nerves.

 

“… wouldn’t have been hit by the car that took her life. Took the life of my beautiful, beautiful wife.”

The words slowly filter through his brain, like mush, but he cannot comprehend the meaning.

Someone was hit by a car?

Someone died?

 

“I’m sorry….”

He recognises that voice, he realises with sharp clarity. Would recognise that voice anywhere.

Yunho was here, too?

 

“No, you’re not. You’re just saying that so I won’t hurt your precious Changmin here.”

The hand in his hair tightened, further jerking his head back and Changmin cannot help the pain-filled whimper that escaped as it worsened his headache to a sharp stabbing pain.

 

“Ch-Changmin?”

 

At the call of his name Changmin, Changmin struggled to open his eyes. His eyelids were so _heavy_ and it took a few attempts before he blearily opened his eyes, squinting as the world came swimming into view. Random colours and shapes swirled together confusingly, disorientingly.

He blinked hard, trying to get his eyes to focus.

The spinning grey and brown eventually solidified into metal walls and dirty concrete floors, the white smudge settling down until he was finally met with the sight of Yunho’s relieved face.

 

“Hyung…”

 

…

 

“Thanks for finally joining us, Changmin-ah.”

Changmin blinked and looked up, finally noticing the stranger’s face looming over him. The owner of the scratchy voice. He would have jerked backwards if not for the firm grip the man had in his hair, and the bite of something cold and sharp at his neck.

He didn’t need to look down to know it was a knife.

He swallowed uneasily, trying to stay calm, but he couldn't help the flicker of fear that crossed his face.

He clenched his jaw and glanced back down uneasily, meeting Yunho’s gaze from across the room.

Yunho's burning, smouldering gaze.

Changmin would by lying to say he wasn't scared at being held at knife point, but a tiny part of him was glad that at least Yunho looked unharmed, that Yunho was here for him.

Yunho would figure out how to get out of this situation. This awful, dreadful situation.

 

 

“Now,” the insane man smirks, a malicious glint in his eye. “Since dear Changmin has finally joined us, it’s my turn to make a move.”

He snapped his fingers once, the loud sound reverberating around the warehouse.

Moments later, the door opened with a loud screech, and two set of footsteps entered – one prompt and certain, shoes clicking on the pavement, the other, lighter set of footsteps faltering and uneven.

The crazed man’s lackey entered their field of vision, dragging a tripping, stumbling girl behind him.

 

Yunho whipped his head around to face the newcomers, and his blood immediately turned to ice.

 

The lackey forced her down to her knees and she finally looked up, face pale, large eyes wide and terrified.

 

“No,” Changmin breathed in involuntary horror.

 

It was Jung Jihye.

 

Yunho’s sister.

 

“Now, all the players have assembled.” The crazed man said with glee. His maniacal smile grew even wider, as if revelling in the sight of their combined horror.

 

“Choose, Jung Yunho. One of them will die today.”

 

“Which one will you save?”

 

 

 

**TBC.**


	2. Chapter 2

“Choose, Jung Yunho. One of them will die today.”

“Which one will you save?”

 

\-----------------------

 

Yunho’s heart misses a beat.

One of them will…die today?

Yunho has to choose who to save, and who to… kill?

Yunho stared at the man, filled with dread. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand.

 

“Why?” he whispered. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why, you ask?”

The man twirled the knife lazily around in his hand, sounding vaguely amused, as Yunho watched, his heart in his throat as the blade drew nearer with every revolution.

“The day my wife died, I lost everything. You wouldn’t understand, Jung Yunho, the extent of suffering your existence has caused me. The feeling when the centre of the universe disappears, and the subsequent collapse of the entire galaxy.

“But now,” his smile broadened, growing more sinister, more crazed. “Now, you finally will, when with your own hands you choose to kill your loved one and finally feel a fraction of my pain.”

 

Frozen, Yunho desperately tried to think, tried to assess the situation. But all seemed hopeless. No matter what he did, no matter who he chose, someone was going to die. One of them wasn’t going to leave this place alive.

But there was no way he could kill anyone. Ever.

He’d rather die himself.

He clenched his fists tightly, feeling his nails dig into the skin of his palms.

 

“Please,” Yunho whispered.

“Hm?”

“Just take me and let these two go, they had nothing to do with this.”

“Oh? And why would I do that, my dear?”

“It’s me you want, isn’t it?” Yunho says desperately. He's well aware that he was pleading, begging now, and that the man was thoroughly enjoying it, but he could not bring himself to care. “It’s my fault and you just want me to die for what I’ve done, isn’t that right?”

At Yunho’s words, the man threw his head back and laughed. But it wasn’t a laugh of joy. It wasn’t even the mad cackle of a lunatic. It was biting, harsh and cold, flat and humourless in a way that sent shivers down Yunho’s spine.

 

 “Oh, no, that would never do. Death is too easy an end for you, Jung Yunho.” The man narrowed his eyes, and Yunho quivered at the cold, murderous rage in those black orbs, fully and entirely directed at him.

“I need you to suffer, Yunho. The conflict! The despair! How I will rejoice at the sweet pain in your eyes, the sheer hopelessness of your decision!”

The man smiled again, eyes wide and unblinking, lips parted wide in a terrifying smile.

“Now, no more chit-chat. I believe you have a decision to make, my dear Yunho.”

 

 

Yunho tore his gaze away from the man, eyes flickering between the two people he loved the most in the entire world.

His sister, his only remaining blood relative, his precious little treasure that he swore to protect. The innocent child that knew nothing of darkness, the one that Yunho had fought tooth and nail for to keep in the light, surrounded by nothing but beautiful pleasantries in this cruel world.

The one who was now forcefully dragged into this mess because of him, her failure of an elder brother.

He looks at her now, knees torn and scraped, wrists bound by rope and rubbed raw, her hair loose from it’s customary ponytail and now hanging limply around her shoulders. Her eyes are wide and terrified, and she’s biting down on her lips as if to keep herself from bursting into tears, but the trembling of her lips gives her away.

She must be petrified.

He imagines her walking home from school on this seemingly ordinary day, only to be kidnapped right off the streets, bound and taken by a strange man, and now threatened with her life, and Yunho feels sick to the stomach.

She meets his gaze and after a moment, her lips quirk up and she gives him a watery smile, as if trying to fight down her terror and tell him that she’s fine, and Yunho’s heart breaks a little more.

He fights down the urge to run to her, to wrap her in a hug and murmur sweet reassurances in her ear, promises that everything will be okay.

How could he abandon her?

But…

Changmin, his best friend, his brother, his partner, the one that stuck with him through thick and thin. The one that stayed when he fell apart, who wordlessly endured his grief-filled outbursts with endless patience, the one that slowly put him back together piece by piece, with no regard for his own personal wellbeing.

The one who stood by him on stage, quietly giving his strength and reassurance with his mere presence.

He looks to him now, Changmin with his head lolled to the side, neck still bleeding sluggishly, bruises and blood decorating his pale face. Changmin, who was attacked at night and woke up alone in a dark warehouse, weak and injured and with no idea of what had happened.

Changmin managed to somehow meet Yunho’s gaze, eyes heavy with emotion.

With a start, Yunho realised that the younger man does not look afraid. After spending ten years together, he was well acquaintance with the other’s array of expressions. Changmin was currently fatigued, in pain and utterly bewildered, yes, but not afraid.

He looks at Yunho with such steadfast _faith_ in his eyes, like he is certain that Yunho will somehow find a way, will save them from this terrible, terrible situation and Yunho feels his stomach drop, because he is lost and conflicted and he doesn’t know what to do.

Changmin and Jihye.

Jihye and Changmin.

His brother or his sister.

 

How could he possibly choose?

 

 

\-----------------------

 

 

Changmin watched as Yunho’s eyes flickered between Jihye and himself, back and force, relentlessly, conflictedly, despairingly.

His heart breaks a little at the sheer anguish contorting the man’s beautiful features. How could he choose between them?

But Changmin knows he _has_ to choose, or the madman might kill them all. Would probably kill them all, actually, given his apparent hatred for Yunho and desire to see his suffering.

 

Unless…

He saw Yunho’s gaze linger on Jihye, a second or two longer before flicking back to Changmin, and in that instant he knows.

Jihye is his sister, and regardless of how strong his bond with Yunho was, he would always choose his family first. Not that Changmin blames Yunho, of course.

Jihye, who was sweet and filled with happiness and warmth and life, and so very much like Yunho. What kind of person would Yunho be if he sacrificed his precious little sister, his only family, for someone the likes of Changmin? Someone he was bound to only because of a legal contract?

Vaguely, he wonders who he would choose, if he was in this situation. Between his own sister and Yunho, who would he sacrifice?

 

He’d much rather die himself.

 

And so he doesn’t really blame Yunho, he understands, even.

And he understands that today, in less than a few moments, he was going to die.

He doesn’t even feel surprised by this sudden realisation, not does he feel afraid or scared. He simply accepts it as something inevitable, something that must come to pass.

He is going to die. Then so be it.

But then he imagined Yunho, bright, down-to-earth, passionate and warm Yunho, with his hands bathed in blood. He would never forgive himself for killing Changmin, even if it was something Changmin had already accepted. The man was too righteous, too pure and kind. Something like this would break him.

Changmin refused to make Yunho shoulder the weight of Changmin’s life in exchange for his sister’s.

And suddenly, Changmin knew what he needed to do.

 

 

He slouched back in his chair, which wasn’t hard to do, really, when even sitting up still was painful. The madman at his side must’ve felt his change in posture, because he pressed the knife deeper at Changmin’s throat, digging into his skin and reopening the old cut.

“Don’t move,” the man hissed. “Be a good doll. If you ruin my show I’ll slit your throat.”

Changmin can’t quite help the small chuckles that rose in his throat at those words and out of his peripheral vision he sees the man frown, confused at his laughter.

“What’s so funny,” the man sneers, pressing the knife in deeper until it becomes physically painful and Changmin lets out a tiny gasp. “Do you have a death wish?”

Changmin only smiled.

“Bingo.”

 

Without any further warning, Changmin threw himself forward, straight onto the knife and feels the excruciating sharp pain as it sliced straight through his neck muscles and blood vessels, and gush of hot sticky blood down his chest.

There is a loud commotion in the background but Changmin can’t focus, his senses overloaded and his brain screaming at him _why on earth did it hurt so much_ and _Shim Changmin you absolute idiot_ but he can’t help but feel a tiny sense of pride when the madman drops him out of shock and he falls to his knees, swaying.

Well, he thinks dizzily. At least I got myself out of that situation.

But then the world tilts confusingly and Changmin is falling, falling, falling,

 

And suddenly Yunho is there, catching Changmin in his strong arms and Changmin feels safe at last.

There is pressure on his throat and he coughs wetly, speckling Yunho’s face with blood. Yunho is saying something, screaming something, but Changmin cannot hear through the ringing in his ears.

The last thing he sees is Yunho’s eyes, wide and filled with horror and pain, so many kinds of pain.

His eyes slip closed. Distantly, he feels a warm hand cup his cheek, a splash of cool liquid on his face and he thinks, just as the darkness claims him,

 

Ah, I’m the worst.

 

I made Yunho-hyung cry again.

 

_I’m sorry._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**TBC.**

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus, I'm finally back after a stressful exam period.  
> Hope you enjoy!

One moment Yunho was standing between Changmin and Jihye, dread in the pit of his stomach and heart leaping out of his chest.  His eyes flicked between the two people he loved most in the world, assessing the severity of the situation and desperately trying to think of a way to get them out of here.

Jihye let out a small terrified squeak as the man holding her readjusted his position, bringing the knife closer to her neck. Yunho’s eyes flickered to her immediately, lingering as his eyes zeroed in on the weapon.

_What was he to do?_

 

The next moment there was a thud and Changmin was falling to his knees, throat torn open and with blood flowing everywhere – from his neck, dripping onto his collar, pooling on the floor.

Yunho froze for a millisecond, uncomprehending yet strangely transfixed by the gruesome sight, watching the dark red drip off the younger’s lips, a stark contrast against his pale face.

Then reality kicked in and panic filled his vision.

 

The entire world narrowed to Yunho, the crazy killer, and Changmin, who was _bleeding over the floor._ Instinct took over, and everything else faded into the background.

He felt as though space and time ceased to exist as he practically _warped_ across the warehouse floor, bodily tackling the stranger and sending him flying across the floor in his haste to remove all obstacles and simply get to Changmin.

He catches the younger, just as Changmin’s knees give out and the maknae topples, landing him safely in Yunho’s arms.

Yunho immediately places pressure on the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood. But the crimson red moves past him, sliding down his knuckles and slipping between his fingers in small pulses.

 

“Changmin, what…”

He cannot speak, cannot think, cannot convert his thoughts and feelings into words and express them properly. Distantly, he is aware that the warehouse had erupted into chaos, shouting and fighting as his backup stormed into the room.

But none of that mattered when Changmin was bleeding out under him and there was nothing Yunho could do to stop it.

He pressed more firmly against the wound, but his fingers were trembling so badly he couldn’t steady them enough to be of sufficient use.

And still, when Changmin looks up at him, he isn’t shaky and afraid and panicking like Yunho certainly was. His eyes were dark and calm, nothing but quiet acceptance in his orbs.

Yunho’s heart stopped.

 

“What were you thinking, Changmin?” he whispered. “What did you do? Changmin, what did you do?” Yunho knew he was getting progressively louder, repeating the same thing again and again until he was screaming.

Changmin’s lips, still thickly coated with blood, tilt up in a mocking resemblance of a smile.

Then his eyelids fluttered and started to lower.

“No, no, no! Stay with me Changmin, you have to stay awake!”

At the sound of his voice, Changmin tilted his head and visibly struggled to keep his eyes open, but his eyes were hazy and distant, already slipping away.

Yunho cupped his palm against Changmin’s cheek, trying to wake him without jostling his wounds too much.

“Changmin, please,” Yunho begged, feeling his own eyes well with tears. “Please, stay with me!”

But the younger man didn’t respond, head lolling to the side as he fell limp in Yunho’s arms, already falling into a bloodloss induced unconsciousness.

Yunho’s world blurs.

 

...

 

He couldn’t breathe.

His entire being had been coalesced down into a single ball of agony, burning him from both outside and inside, only moments from being ripped apart

Someone was shouting at him. The noise swirling around him was too much, a cacophony of sounds and distorted fragments in his ears. He couldn’t make sense of it.

“Yunho, it’s alright, you can let go now, it’s alright…”

No. He couldn’t lose Changmin. He couldn’t let go.

“Yunho, hyung, please,” someone murmured.

He looked up, and someone was crouched in front of him, speaking to him. But it was as though he was drifting away, listening without hearing, looking without seeing. Nothing mattered.

“Come on, Yunho, we can’t help Changmin if you don’t let go, come on…”

Someone was trying to pull Changmin from his arms.

 

_No!_

 

He flung out an arm and knocked the offender away, sending them stumbling back.

 

_No!_

 

He wrapped Changmin closer to his chest, clutching the limp body to himself like a lifeline.

“Yunho-hyung…..”

The voice was impossibly gentle, paralyzingly soft, but no amount of persuasion would make Yunho let go.

 

_Never._

 

“Enough. Let go of Changmin, Yunho.”

He recognised the voice, the tone.

 

“We can’t get you both to safety until you do.”

Only one person spoke to him like that.

 

“Yunho.”

But he can’t let go. Can’t let go when Changmin is hurting, when Changmin needs him.

 

Sharp pain exploded across his cheek, snapping his head to the side and almost sending him stumbling. His head jerked up instinctively to stare at the attacker, only to see BoA crouched in front of him, hand raised, having just slapped him across the face.

 

“Let go, Yunho.”

BoA was here. If BoA was here, surely it meant everything was okay?

His eyes drifted. Leeteuk was here, Heechul was here, Kangin and Minho and Shindong was here… His dear SM family was here. He didn’t trust anyone more than them.

Perhaps, just this once, he could let them look after the one he loved.

 

When BoA (was it still BoA? He couldn’t see beyond splashed of colour, couldn’t feel anything but Changmin’s warm blood against his cold skin) curled her fingers between his, he let her gently pull his arm away as the paramedics swarmed them and lifted Changmin away from him.

His body instantly felt simultaneously too hot and too cold, missing Changmin’s warmth, but with the heat from the maknae’s lifeblood still covering his hands and his chest.

There was a flurry of noise and movement, but Yunho stopped listened. It was too much effort.

There is a small pinch in his arm, and his head spins dizzily. He fights the feeling, scratching and clawing with every ounce of strength to stay awake. Darkness lapped at the edge of his mind, luring him towards rest.

Then the whole world tilts on his side and fades to black.

 

 ...

 

Yunho sat on a hospital chair in Changmin’s room, his hand tightly gripping Changmin’s limp one. The doctors managed to save Changmin’s life, suturing the ugly gaping wound closed. Changmin will live, they tell him. They managed to stop the bleeding before it became too late.

Wrapped neatly under layers of white cotton that hid the horrible mess, the wound looked much more manageable. If Yunho ignored the drips and drains of the IV lines, the persistent beeping of the heart monitor and the oxygen mask pressed over Changmin’s face, he could almost convince himself that Changmin was simply sleeping.

Changmin’s friends and their SM labelmates have all been to visit, bringing flowers and cards and well-wishes, which Yunho accepted with grace. There was a brightly-coloured collection of presents crowding Changmin’s side table, spilling onto the floor. Yunho could imagine the fuss the much-loved singer would kick up over the mess after he awoke.

It brought a small smile to his face.

 

It’s been three days since the dreadful night, and Yunho has barely left Changmin’s bedside.

It’s a useless sentiment, but he fears that as soon as he turns away, Changmin’s heart monitor will flatline and he will be gone, forever.

He can’t eat, he scarcely sleeps, just keeping watch over his maknae. He begrudgingly allows them to force food and drink down his throat, but ignores all attempts to remove him from the room, all but hostile to those who try.

He would stay right where he was until Changmin woke up.

 

...

 

Yunho was staring off into space, drifting in and out of a daze when he felt Changmin’s finger twitch. He instantly sat up straighter in his chair. _Did he imagine that?_

Cautiously, he gently squeezed Changmin’s hand.

 

“Changmin?”

 

There was a pause, and then Changmin’s fingers moved again, ever so slightly, in Yunho’s palm.

 

Yunho immediately jumped up, hovering over Changmin’s sleeping form. “Changdol? Can you hear me?“

Another squeeze, stronger this time.

 

“Thank goodness. You’re okay, you’re safe now.”

He leaned over and slammed the red call button for the doctors, still cradling Changmin’s hand.

 

“We’re in hospital, Changmin, you’re been injured pretty badly but you’re okay now. Can you open your eyes for me?”

 

Changmin slowly opened his eyes with a flutter, revealing disoriented brown orbs. He only managed to reach halfway before squeezing them back shut with a groan, as the bright hospital lights assaulted his sensitive eyes.

Yunho laughed breathlessly, heart singing. He reached over and smoothed out a wrinkle on Changmin’s brow fondly. “Slowly, dear Changmin. It’s bright in here, and you’ve been asleep for a while.”

Heeding his words, Changmin gradually opened his eyes again, milimeter by slow milimeter, under Yunho’s watchful gaze. And when their eyes finally met again, Yunho felt his heart finally fall back into place, relief washing through him like a massive wave.

 

“Thank goodness,” Yunho whispered, still clutching Changmin’s hands like a prayer. “Thank goodness you’re okay, thank goodness you’re awake.”

Changmin smiled back weakly, still disoriented and groggy from sleep. He opened his mouth to speak –

 

And no sound came out.

 

...

 

 

It is their doctor that breaks the news to them. An elderly man with hair greying at the temples, soft rimless glasses and a kind face.

But his face was grim when he shared the news to the group of misfits who were crowded into the small room.

He tells them that Changmin will never sing again. Despite the successful life-saving surgery, his vocal cords were too damaged to salvage.

 

There was a mixture of reactions.

Changmin’s mother started crying, weeping silently as her husband comforted her quietly, pale-faced with grim determination.

Kyuhyun, who had been traumatised by a similar experience after his car accident, gasped and staggered back, face pale and trembling, memories of his own accident flashing across his mind’s eye. He was instantly swept into a warm embrace by Minho, who soothed his shaking friend with comforting words, he himself wide-eyed and afraid, boyish face contorted with unease, unable to comprehend the full extent of the doctors words.

Changmin himself was silent when they tell him, just staring down at his lap, fists clenched tightly by his side. He shakes his head when the doctors ask if he has questions, and accepts their sympathies with a nod.

 

But Yunho… Yunho had always been the more vocal one of the duo.

“No… it can’t be…”

 

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, looking genuinely sympathetic. He pointed to the imaging results he had brought with him. “See this section here? Changmin’s vocal cords had been completely severed, and there is no feasible way of reattaching them.”

 

“Doctor, please, there has to be another way!” Yunho beseeched. His hands were balled into fists by his side, shaking with his increasing trepidation.  “You’re a doctor, can’t you do something about it?”

 

“Operating on vocal cords is incredibly delicate work, beyond the scope of most surgeons,” the Doctor explained. “It’s a very thin membrane that allows sounds to be generated, one wrong move and it could disrupt what is already healing from the past surgery, or cause further complications that affect this ability to swallow and cough, which are essential.”

 

 “Are there any other options, different procedures or surgeons? Others who specialise in this area?” Yunho implored desperately.

 

“I may be able to refer you to one of our specialists, who can implant an artificial larynx, which may give him back his voice. But anything that strains the vocal cords – such as exposure to irritants or overuse from speaking, much less singing, would destroy it.”

 

“No, please….” Yunho took a stumbling step forward, clutching the lapels of the doctor’s white coat. He knew he was being incredibly disrespectful, and he heard several surprised gasps from around him.

 

He could not bring himself to care.

 

 “There has to be something! Changmin, he- he is a singer, it’s his love and his passion and his dream, it’s what’s taken us through the past fifteen years, what is he going to do now? Where will he go?”

 

But the doctor just shook his head. “I’m sorry, Yunho…”

 

Yunho wanted to shout and scream and plead, to demand for them to fix Changmin, to fix this situation. There  _had_ to be something that could be done! But a small tug on the back of his shirt stopped him in his tracks.

 

He turned to see Changmin reaching out to him, gripping onto the untucked corner of his shirt.

 

“Changmin…”

 

Yunho searched Changmin’s face, but the younger wouldn’t meet his eyes, simply shaking his head. 

 

Yunho sealed his lips together, cutting off what he was going to say. He suppressed the bubbling anger and fear and worry, squashing it into a corner of his mind.

 

He had to be the leader, he had to be strong for Changmin.

 

“I’m sorry, doctor…”

With difficulty, Yunho slowly uncurled his fingers one by one, and let go of the doctor’s now-crinkled coat. 

The doctor merely patted Yunho on the shoulder, and he at once felt like a child again, lost and in need of comfort. “Please, let me know if you need anything. I’ll refer you to all the services that I think may be of use. The hospital’s resources are yours to use.”

 

Yunho nodded stiffly. The doctor sighed, eyes soft.

“Really, Yunho. You know where to find me. Come and talk to me whenever you need, okay? My door is always open for you two.”

 

"I know, thank you..."

The doctor nodded, and turned to Changmin's parents. "A word about moving forward from here, if you please..."

 

Yunho watched as they disappeared around the corner, leaving them alone to work through the stages of grief. He turned back to his maknae, who was resolutely not meeting his eyes.

 

“Changmin…”

 

Changmin shook his head again. He tilted his face up to meet Yunho, eyes still resolutely avoiding Yunho's, mouthing the words.

_Leave me alone for a while._

 

“Are you sure?” Yunho asked uncertainly. He scanned Changmin’s face, but it was kept carefully neutral. For the first time in their decades-old friendship, he could not read the younger’s expression, couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

 

Changmin nodded again, more firmly this time.

 

“Okay.” 

Yunho gathered his coat and phone, herding their small group out of the room. But he lingered in the doorway, glancing back at the man sitting in bed, fists grasping at the sheets.

 

“Changmin…”

 

Changmin made a shooing motion with his hands, a small smile on his lips. Yunho tried hard not to point out the cracks forming in the corners of Changmin’s mask.

“Text me if you need me, I’ll be back soon,” he promised.

Changmin made a disgusted face and waved him off, bringing a smile to Yunho’s face.

He walked out of the room and carefully shut the door, letting the thin wood form a barrier between them from Changmin. He directed Kyuhyun and Minho towards the cafeteria for some warm food and drink, and called their manager to inform him that Changmin had awoken.

 

Then, standing alone in the brightly lit corridor, he thought about Changmin sitting alone in his room, fists clenched, fake smile plastered on his face, willing himself not to weep.

 

If only on that fateful night, he had accompanied Changmin to the store. If only he never revealed that he had a sister. If only he had been more cautious when interacting with fans. If only he had acted quicker, had not driven Changmin to such lengths.

If only Yunho was the one in there instead of Changmin.

 

 

It was all his fault.

 

**TBC.**

 


	4. Chapter 4

Changmin’s days were so filled with activity that he didn’t have a chance to keep track of the time flying by.

He has medical checkups, physiotherapy and speech therapy several times a day, and in between those exhausting sessions, his every other waking moment was filled with visitors.

His family, his friends, and almost all his fellow labelmates had visited, bringing cheer and gossip and good wishes for a swift recovery. They try and stay positive and upbeat, but not everything can be ignored and hidden forever.

A few of them had asked several times, but Changmin remained tight-lipped and unresponsive, and eventually even the doctors gave up questioning him.

But Changmin’s friends are nothing if not stubborn, and it is eventually Minho who cracks open Pandora’s Box.

 

 

“Why did you do it, Changmin?”

Minho was visiting, having brought an ipad with a voice app with him, enabling Changmin to communicate as quickly as he could type. What a blessing that boy was, perceptive and thoughtful. Changmin knew he liked the kid for a reason.

The aforementioned boy was perched on one of the plastic visitor’s chairs, complementary hot chocolate in his hands, eyes looking strangely serious.

Changmin was familiar with the expression – it was the one Minho wore when he became wholeheartedly focused on a task, fixated on a goal. The steely glint in his eyes told Changmin that Minho wouldn’t be leaving until he was satisfied with the answers that he received.

There was a _tap-tap-tap_ sound as Changmin mechanically responded on the device, and waited for the robotic voice to verbalise his words.

 

“WHY WHAT.”

 

“Why did you choose to sacrifice yourself? We would have found a solution without you having to risk your life.”

 

Changmin glanced around, but Yunho was nowhere in sight, having stepped out to purchase a coffee moments earlier.

He suspected that Minho had been waiting for them to be alone before asking.

_This sly kid._

He fiddled with the device, twiddling his thumbs as he pondered on how to answer.

 

“Why, Changmin,” Minho pressed anxiously. “Why?”

 

Changmin chewed his lips in contemplation. There was a tapping sound, then, “HE WOULD HAVE CHOSEN TO SAVE HIS SISTER ANYWAY.”

 

Minho scowled, “You don’t know that though. You guys have been together through thick and thin for decades, Yunho-hyung wouldn’t just let you die!”

 

More typing, then, “I DO KNOW. I KNOW BECAUSE I KNOW YUNHO, AND HE WOULD SAVE JIHYE.”

 

“Why didn’t you wait?” Minho pressed. “Wait for more help? There was a chance that backup would have come and save you both.”

 

Changmin froze, fingers hovering above the keypad. He made the decision on that day, to save Yunho from having to choose, to take himself out of the equation and protect his hyung from the guilt of shouldering a loved one’s death.

But deep down, was that true? What that what he believed?

 

_No._

Deep down, he knew that there was an inkling of a possibility that they would have been saved. But why was he so hasty to choose to sacrifice himself? Why didn’t he stall for time?

Was it to protect Jihye, should the killer decide to act?

 

_No._

It was for a different reason.

Changmin was not a selfless, kind-hearted person. He knew it.

His reason was much more selfish.

The real reason…

 

He peeked up at Minho from the corner of his eyes. The younger was looking at him, worried expression an open book. He was anxious and fearful for Changmin, innocently doing his best to understand something he could not comprehend.

Changmin didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want pity. He had come to terms with his decision, and the consequences. But verbalising it would be like unearthing his deepest darkest secrets, offering up his own twisted heart for critique.

But this was Minho. He trusted Minho.

 

“Changmin?” the younger prompted gently when Changmin faltered.

 

“I WAS TIRED, MINHO. TIRED AND NUMB AND PAINFULLY EMPTY. IT’S NOT LIKE I WANTED TO DIE,

"BUT I DON’T NEED TO LIVE.”

 

There was a clatter as Minho dropped his cup, spilling it’s contents across the floor. Changmin could imagine the look of horror on the younger boy’s face, but he kept on typing resolutely.

 

“I THOUGHT THAT IF I DIED, AT LEAST I COULD SAVE JIHYE. IF I DIED…”

 

He paused, fingers trembling.

 

“AT LEAST IT MEANT THAT I MATTERED. THAT I MADE A DIFFERENCE. THAT I ONCE LIVED.”

 

And suddenly his vision was blurring and hot tears were streaming down between his fingers, plopping softly into his lap. He dropped the ipad, burying his face in his hands.

Minho leapt up, rushing over to the bed and wrapping Changmin in a hug. “Sssh, Changmin, it’s alright, I’ve got you, you’re alright.”

 

And Changmin cried silently, heaving great sobs as he buried his head on Minho’s shoulder, the younger soothing him as Changmin he let the accumulated feelings overflow. Tears racked his body as he cried out the guilt, the pain, numbness and emptiness, clutching Minho to him like a lifeline.

 

Unknown to both of them, Yunho had been standing outside, cups of coffee in his hand, and had overheard every word.

 

He ran.

 

 

...

 

 

Yunho  stood in his dorm’s washroom at midnight, staring at himself in the mirror. The only source of light spilled in through the window, moonlight basking his features pale white.

 

_He would have chosen to save his sister anyway._

_I was tired. Tired and numb and painfully empty._

_It’s not like I wanted to die, but I don’t need to live._

_If I died, at least it meant that I mattered. That I made a difference. That I once lived._

 

The robotic voice of Changmin’s vocalisation device reverberated in his head, chilling him to the depths on his bones..

When he heard Changmin’s words, his first instinct was to shout, _NO._

But then, Changmin’s further words struck something deep inside his soul, shook his to his very core, and in his confusion and panic he fled from the scene.

 

 

_Depression._

It was something they talked about on occasion. Less so these days, but more frequently back in the day when they were torn and broken by the departure of Jaejoo- _the other three_.

He wasn’t afraid to admit that both Changmin and himself were probably suffering from undiagnosed depression at that time. It had felt like a part of him was ripped out, fragments of his soul lost. Some days they were fine, when they put on their suits and had makeup done and went out to face the bright flashing lights of the paparazzi. Some days were so filled with performances and recordings that they didn’t have time to think, to feel, they just had to do what they were told. And some days they couldn’t even find the energy to move, when nothing had meaning anymore.

But they got through it, Yunho and Changmin together. They decided to live to the fullest with the remaining time they had left.

They were imperfect, still jagged around the edges but healing, and they were fine now.

 

Weren’t they?

 

Because for all that Changmin was the quiet, withdrawn and calm one, he was also happy and full of life.

He didn’t like to spend time with other people, rejecting Yunho’s offers and preferring to pass his time alone in his room, but that was just his introverted side, wasn’t it?

He sometimes neglected to eat and drink and sleep, claiming that he felt fine, but that was just because he was distracted with their busy schedules, wasn’t it?

He sometimes was completely unresponsive, expression blank and eyes dull before pulling his face into a faint resemblance of a smile, but that was just because he was tired, wasn’t it?

.

.

.

.

_No._

The truth was always there. The signs were always there. But Yunho didn’t see it, so blinded by his passions and focusing on living his own life to the fullest that he had left his partner behind.

His maknae was depressed.

 

And Yunho did _nothing_ about it.

 

He was meant to be the leader, meant to protect Changmin. And yet not only did he fail to do so, Changmin had been the one to protect him instead, save him from having to choose between him and Jihye.

What a failure he was, to cause his maknae to think that his death was an acceptable loss. To make Changmin fail to see the value of his own life.  

And how could Changmin live his everyday life, unfeeling, uncaring of his own existence?

And how could Yunho have spent the past decade next to him, without even noticing?

 

Yunho lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He leaned his forehead against the mirror, the smooth surface of the glass cool against his heated skin.

 

He already felt guilty already for causing Changmin all this pain. It was his fault that Changmin got attacked, his fault that Changmin felt the need to sacrifice himself and spare Jihye, his fault that Changmin’s life was now ruined.

And now, his fault that Changmin didn’t see a need to live.

He was a failure, who abandoned Changmin in his own pursuits.

 

 

He no longer had the right to stay by Changmin’s side.

 

 

 ...

 

 

Everyone notices, of course. Of Yuho’s change from practically living in the hospital to scarcely visiting at all.

A few brave souls try to talk to him, but without success. They tell Changmin that Yunho was busy with the increased workload, and would visit soon.

 

But Changmin had a sneaking suspicion that it was because Yunho had overheard the conversation between himself and Minho.

 

_As if I wasn’t a hindrance enough already,_ he thought bitterly. _Now I’m just broken goods. Physically and mentally unstable._

 

Miserably, he was stabbing at pieces of tofu on his plate when Kyuhyun barged in. “What’s happened between you two?” Kyuhyun demanded.

 

Changmin sighed in defeat and put his chopsticks down, giving up on finishing his food. He picked up his ipad and began to type.

 

“WHO.”

 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Changmin,” Kyuhyun groaned. “Yunho-hyung, of course.”

He ignored Changmin’s flinch at the man’s name. “Tell me, what happened between you two?"

 

Changmin glared. “I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN.”

 

Kyuhyun sighed. “Look, Changmin, whatever he did, I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” he said slowly, carefully.

 

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK HE DID SOMETHING WRONG.”

 

“Because it’s Yunho-hyung. He probably stuffed up, and is in self-confinement at the moment because he feels guilty.”

Changmin tore his gaze away, looking back at his plate of unfinished food, picking at it absently.

 

_He probably just doesn’t know how to deal with me anymore. A mess of broken pieces._

 

“Changmin…”

 

“I KNOW.”

 

"...Do you resent him?"

 

With that, Changmin snapped his head back up to stare at Kyuhyun incredulously. “KYU, HE HATES _ME_.”

 

  _For ruining TVXQ, his dream and career. And now, for being a hindrance, a liability._

 

So he was not expecting the scandalised expression he was presented with, nor the evil maknae’s response.

 

“Changmin,” Kyuhyun said incredulously. “Have you seen his eyes?”

 

 

…

  


“Changmin? I was looking for you.”

Changmin looked over his shoulder to see Heechul calling him from down the hallway. He had been talking a walk on the other side of the hospital in hopes of being alone, but of course the elder had somehow managed to find him.

 

“Can we talk?”

 Changmin didn’t reply at first. He knows Heechul is close to Yunho, and he knows what he wanted to talk about.

He turned away, intent on staying silent and leaving Heechul alone.

 

“Changmin. _Please.”_

Changmin froze.

Heechul was a prideful man. He was a free spirit that did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He disregarded social expectations, spoke casually with everyone, and was unbounded by hierarchies and norms.

And here he was, pleading with Changmin.

 

“FINE.”

He lead the elder down the hallway to a quiet rest area tucked away in the corner of the large hospital, where they would have some privacy. They sit down on one of the plush couches, and he waited for Heechul to start speaking.

 

"You and Yunho are _idiots._ "

He didn’t expect that.

 

“I was there on that night. He was begging you to stay. Holding onto you so tightly that we couldn’t take you to the paramedics. Lashing out against anyone who tried.”

 

Confused, Changmin questioned, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN.”

 

Heechul turned to face him, a strange half-smile on his face. “I know you’ve convinced yourself that Yunho was ready to kill you for his sister, and now thinks that you’re a hindrance, but that’s not the case.”

 

Changmin’s eyes widened, astonishment all over his features. “HOW DID-.”

 

“You’re an open book, Changmin. Anyone with eyes can tell,” Heechul rolled his eyes with a huff. “Except maybe Yunho. For someone so perceptive, he can be incredibly oblivious.”

 

"I tried to talk to him, but you know how impossible it is," he paused to sigh, and Changmin hid a smile as he imagined what lengths Heechul must have gone to, to extract information from a stubborn Yunho. "I told him to stop being stupid and just talk to you, and—"

 

"THERE IS NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT—"

 

"He's blaming himself." Heechul cuts in. "He's been miserable. He thinks you hate him for everything that happened.

"He was by your side the entire time you were unconscious. He's been to your room when you were asleep. He thinks no one knows, but really, I have eyes everywhere in the hospital. He thinks it's his fault that you… don’t value your life.”

 

“BUT-“

 

"He's hurting too, Changmin. I can see it in his eyes." To Changmin’s raised eyebrow, Heechul sighs, "If you bother to look him in the eye for once, you'd see too."

 

At that, Changmin looks away to stare down a his lap. Kyuhyun has said the same thing too, but the thought terrified him. 

He was too afraid of what he'd find in those deep dark eyes.

_Annoyance? Pity?_

_...Resentment?_

 

At his silence, Heechul sighed again. "Really, you guys are so different, but still so completely the same. So smart yet so dumb. So stubborn and stupid."

Changmin started typing again, a complaint at his fingertips, but then Heechul continues in an almost gentle tone. "And  _hurting_ , too."

 

And then Heechul stands up and roughly ruffled Changmin’s hair, letting Changmin half-heartedly bat his hand away.

 

“When have I ever been wrong, Changmin? Trust hyung in this.”

And he smiled and walked away, leaving Changmin alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**TBC.**

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! We're finally getting some insight into Yunho and Changmin's real feelings....  
> We're almost there!
> 
> As usual, let me know what you guys think~

Changmin’s days are so filled with activity that he didn’t have a chance to keep track of the time flying by. He has medical checkups and physiotherapy and speech therapy several times a day, nurses bustling in and out of his room.

In between those exhausting sessions, his every other waking moment is filled with visitors.

So. Many. Visitors.

His fellow SM bandmates all visit, bringing flowers and chocolates and well-wishes. His friends from school, his family, even the managers and coordi-noonas all come and visit.

They skirt around the topic, they try and stay positive and upbeat, and Changmin really appreciated it.

But not everything could be ignored and hidden forever. Changmin remained tight-lipped and unresponsive, but his friends are nothing if not stubborn, and it is eventually Minho who cracks open Pandora’s Box.

 

 

 “Why did you do it, Changmin?”

It was Minho who was visiting, having brought an ipad with a voice app with him. Minho was officially Changmin’s new favourite person. (Kyuhyun, the traitor, had merely handed him a whiteboard and marker and _smirked_.)

The SHINee rapper was perched on one of the plastic visitor’s chairs, complementary hot chocolate in his hands, eyes strangely serious.

Changmin was familiar with that expression – it was the one he wore when he became invested in a game or competition, wholeheartedly focused on a task. The steely glint in his eyes told Changmin that Minho wouldn’t be leaving until he was satisfied with the answers that he received.

 

There was a _tap-tap-tap_ sound as Changmin mechanically responded, and waited for the robotic voice to verbalise his words.

 

“WHY WHAT.”

“Why did you choose to sacrifice yourself? We would have found a solution without you having to risk your life.”

 

 “I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT.”

“…Hyung…”

 

Now he was pulling the puppy dog eyes. Changmin glanced away. Minho’s kicked-puppy expression was one of the few things he could never say no to.

Changmin glanced around, but Yunho was nowhere in sight, having stepped out to purchase a coffee moments earlier.

He suspected that Minho had been waiting for them to be alone before asking.

_That sly kid._

 

Changmin fiddled with the device, twiddling his thumbs as he contemplated how to answer.

He could ignore Minho, of course. But in the battle of stubbornness, Changmin wasn’t completely sure he would win against Minho’s competitive spirit.

 _And_ when he knew the younger man was genuinely concerned.

 _And_ especially since he owed Minho an answer, after everything that happened.

“Why, Changmin,” Minho pressed anxiously. “Why?”

 

Changmin chewed his lips in contemplation. There was a tapping sound, then, “HE WOULD HAVE CHOSEN TO SAVE HIS SISTER ANYWAY.”

Minho scowled, “You don’t know that though. You guys have been together through thick and thin for decades, Yunho-hyung wouldn’t just let you die.”

 

More typing, then, “I DO KNOW. I KNOW BECAUSE I KNOW YUNHO AND YUNHO LOVES HIS FAMILY. BUT”

Changmin froze, fingers hovering above the keypad. He made the decision on that day. By taking himself out of the equation, he would protect his hyung from the guilt of causing Changmin’s death. There was no other choice.

But deep down, was that true? What that what he believed?

 

_No._

It was for a different reason.

Changmin was not a selfless, kind-hearted person. He knew it.

His reason was much more selfish.

The real reason…

He peeked up at Minho from the corner of his eyes. The younger was looking at him, worry painted on every feature of his handsome face. He was anxious and fearful for Changmin, innocently doing his best to understand something he could not comprehend.

Changmin didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want pity. He had come to terms with his decision, and the consequences. But verbalising it would be like unearthing his deepest darkest secrets, offering up his own twisted heart for critique.

But this was Minho. He trusted Minho.

 

“But what?” the younger prompted gently when Changmin faltered.

“I LOVE HIM, MINHO.”

“And so…?”

The younger boy’s brow is furrowed in confusion, and Changmin hurries to explain, to try put his feelings into words.

“NOT LIKE A BROTHER, MIN. I LOVE HIM. I HAVE LOVED HIM FOR OVER TEN YEARS.”

 

A  quiet intake of air, and

“Oh, Changmin…”

Minho’s voice was heartbreakingly soft. “Does…. Does he know?”

Changmin shook his head.

“But if you love him, then _why_ would you …?”

“THAT IS EXACTLY WHY. BECAUSE I LOVE HIM, AND I WANT TO MAKE HIM HAPPY.”

 

The unspoken words lingered in the air. _This would have made him happy._

Minho shook his head furiously, but Changmin pressed on.

“IT’S JUST, EVEN THOUGH HE WOULD CHOOSE JIHYE, I COULD NOT LET HIM SAY IT OUT LOUD.”

He paused, fingers trembling.

 

He could see it, bright and stark and clear in his mind’s eye. Yunho standing in the middle of the wasted warehouse, regal and tall and proud. His gaze flickering between the two hostages. Locking eyes with Changmin for one last time, before looking away guiltily. And in his strong clear voice …

Changmin knew his puppy-love wouldn’t be requited. He knew it. From the moment he entered the company, all awkward limbs and high-pitched voice. From the moment he first met the graceful, talented, cheerful Yunho.

Yunho was too far out of reach. He was strength, he was beauty, he was confidence and passion personified. Changmin had been blessed to be by his side for the last decade, but he wasn’t ignorant enough to think it would last forever.

 

“I WAS AFRAID OF HEARING HIM SAY TO LET ME DIE.”

 

He knew when push comes to shove, Yunho would choose Jihye.

But hearing Yunho speak those words would have killed not only his body, but his heart too.

That was the only thing he could not bear.

 

“IT WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE DYING TWICE.”

 

 

And suddenly his vision was blurring. Hot tears leaked out of his eyes, streaming down between his fingers and plopped gently on the blanket in his lap.

There was a flurry of movement as Minho leapt up, dropping his drink and spilling the contents all over the floor, rushing over to the bed and wrapping Changmin in a tight hug.

And Changmin let him, clutching Minho to him like a lifeline, too raw and empty to be proud in this moment of weakness.

 “Sssh, Changmin, it’s alright, I’ve got you, you’re alright.”

And Changmin cries silently, weeping against Minho’s shoulder, heaving great sobs as he let the his feelings overflow.

 

 

 

Unknown to both of them, Yunho had been standing outside, cups of coffee in his hand, and had overheard every word.

He drops both cups and they clatter to the floor, spilling across the hallway.

Changmin looks up at the sudden sound, and for a moment their eyes meet.

Yunho panics.

Yunho runs.

 

 

 ...

 

Yunho  stood in his dorm’s at midnight, staring at himself in the mirror. The only source of light spilled in through the window, moonlight basking his features pale white.

_He would have chosen to save his sister anyway._

_I could not let him say it out loud. I was afraid of hearing him say to let me die._

_I love him, and I want to make him happy._

_It would have been like dying twice._

 

The robotic voice of Changmin’s vocalisation device reverberated in his head.

When he heard Changmin’s words, his first instinct was to shout, _NO._

But then, deep down, in the darkest corner of his mind, he wasn’t so sure, and in his confusion he fled from the scene.

Yunho had always been goal-oriented. He had a habit of focusing on one thing and only one thing, rushing towards it with reckless abandon and letting everything fade into the background.

He rarely ever faltered.

But what was the right thing to do, in this situation?

And while he wavered, the younger has been so sure, so completely certain that Yunho would let him die.

Is that what Changmin thought? That Yunho didn’t value the maknae? That he would choose to sacrifice Changmin?

How could Changmin stay beside Yunho, all the while thinking that he wasn’t valued?

How could he not resent him?

 

And then, Changmin had said that… he loved him.

Loved him? Loved Yunho?

Yunho had always known that Changmin looked up to him, respected him as a hyung. They were close, more than bandmates, more than brothers. The two left after the departure of the other three. They grew closer, after that, and Yunho wasn’t afraid to admit that Changmin was his favourite person.

Yet he hadn’t known that the younger harboured affection for the older, let alone feelings of love.

Yunho felt something in his chest tighten.

 

Changmin had quietly loved Yunho for all these years, and _Yunho had never noticed_.

 

Yunho lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

It was Yunho’s fault that Changmin got attacked, Yunho’s fault that Changmin felt the need to kill himself and spare Jihye, Yunho’s fault that Changmin’s life was ruined.

And when Changmin’s life was in danger, Yunho wasn’t even able to wholeheartedly protect Changmin.

He didn’t deserve the younger.

He no longer had the right to stay by Changmin’s side.

 

 

...

 

The others notice, of course. Of Yuho’s change from practically living in the hospital to scarcely visiting at all. And when he does, Changmin either refuses to see him, or feigns sleep.

“What’s happened between you two?” Kyuhyun demanded.

Changmin sighed in defeat and put his chopsticks down, giving up on finishing his food. He picked up his ipad and began to type.

 

“WHO.”

 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Changmin,” Kyuhyun groaned. “Yunho-hyung, of course.” He ignored Changmin’s flinch at the man’s name.

“Tell me, what happened between you two?"

 

Changmin glared. “I DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN.”

Kyuhyun sighed. “Look, Changmin, whatever he did, I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” he said slowly, carefully.

Changmin tore his gaze away, looking back at his plate of unfinished food, picking at it absently.

“Changmin…”

 

“I KNOW.”

"Do you resent him?"

With that, Changmin snapped his head back up to stare at Kyuhyun incredulously. “KYU, HE HATES _ME_.”

  _For ruining his career, for being a hindrance, for holding him back._

_For being an insufferable fool that was in love with him._

 

The image of Yunho’s broad back as he turned and ran from Changmin was imprinted in his mind.

So he was not expecting the scandalised expression he was presented with, nor younger’s response.

“Changmin,” Kyuhyun said incredulously. “Have you seen his eyes?”

 

 

...

 

 

“Changmin? I was looking for you.”

Changmin looked over his shoulder to see Heechul calling him. The singer was red in the face, looking breathless.

As though he had been running all around the hospital to look for him.

“Can we talk?”

 

 Changmin didn’t reply. He knew that Heechul was close to Yunho, and he knew what he wanted to talk about.

He hesitated, and turned back away from Heechul.

“Changmin. _Please.”_

 

That stopped Changmin in his tracks. Heechul was a prideful man, a free spirit that did whatever he wanted regardless of social constructs. And here he was, pleading with Changmin for a chance to speak.

Changmin sighed, and pulled out his ipad.

“OKAY. FOLLOW ME.”

 

He led the elder through the twisting corridors to a quiet rest area, tucked into the corner of the hospital where they wouldn’t be disturbed.

They sit down on the plush couches, and Changmin waits for Heechul to speak.

"You and Yunho—" here it comes- "—are so  _stupid._ "

 

… _What?_

 

 “I was there on that night. He was begging you to stay. Holding onto you so tightly that we couldn’t take you to the paramedics. Lashing out against anyone who tried.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN.”

 

Heechul turned to face him, a strange half-smile on his face. “I know you’ve convinced yourself that Yunho was ready to kill you for his sister, and now thinks that you’re a hindrance, but that’s not the case.”

Changmin’s eyes widened, astonishment all over his features. “HOW DID-.”

 

“You’re an open book, Changmin. Anyone with eyes can tell.” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, contemplative. “Except maybe Yunho. For someone so perceptive, he can be incredibly oblivious at times.”

He waits for Changmin to speak, but Changmin’s mind is frozen, trying to process the information.

"I tried to talk to him, but you know how near-impossible it is," Heechul paused to sigh, and Changmin couldn’t help the small smile on his face as he imagined what Heechul must have done to extract information from a stubborn Yunho. "I told him you two need to talk it out, and—"

"THERE’S NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT—"

 

"He's blaming himself." Heechul cuts in. "He's been a miserable mess. He thinks you hate him for everything that happened.”

"He was by your side the entire time you were unconscious. He's been to your room when you were asleep. He thinks no one knows, but really, I have eyes everywhere in the hospital. He thinks all the wrong in the world is his fault.”

“BUT HE-“

 

"He's hurting too, Changmin. I can see it in his eyes." Changmin makes a rather disbelieving look, so Heechul says, "If you bother to look him in the eye for once, you'll see."

At that, Changmin looks away to his hands on his lap. Kyuhyun has said the same thing too, but that is one thing he hasn't been able to do. Because he is too scared of what he'd find there.

_Anger? Annoyance?_

_…Disgust?_

 

"Really, you both are so alike. Stupid, stubborn, hopeless," Heechul pauses when Changmin starts typing, about to complain, but then continues in a softer, sombre tone, "And  _hurting_ , too."

And then he stands up, ruffles Changmin’s hair, smiles at him, and walks away, leaving Changmin to his own jumbled up thoughts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**TBC.**


End file.
